The Same Old Game
by Shorina
Summary: When a young woman dies at a college event, Lewis and Hathaway are called in. But are they facing a crime scene or did she die in a sad accident? Chapter 10 is here - and with that the story is complete.
1. dance

_The characters of Lewis, Hathaway, Dr. Hobson and Superintendent Innocent belong to Colin Dexter and/or ITV. I merely borrow them so they can solve another crime. All other appearing characters are my creation and completely fictional. Similarities to any existent persons are not intended._

_This story was written to 10 prompts I was given at the livejournal community 10_random for the fandom Lewis with the characters of Lewis and Hathaway. I'm using the prompts as titles for the chapters._

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* * *

_Detective Inspector Lewis put his half-empty wine glass down on the table and reached for his ringing mobile. Only one person was likely to call at this odd hour so he didn't bother to look at the display and just pressed the button to accept the call.

"What is it, Hathaway?"

"You'd never guess, Sir. A body."

"Yeah, I never would have guessed that." He sighed. "Where?"

"Balliol College, the great assembly hall. You can't miss it."

Lewis quickly went through the colleges in his mind to come up with a location for the place before another thought struck him.

"If you need me there, have someone pick me up. I've had wine with dinner, I'm not getting behind the wheel any more today."

Hathaway hesitated for a moment. "If you're not up to it..."

"I'm not drunk. I just don't want to risk driving any more, OK? Just have someone pick me up."

"Yes, Sir."

Lewis ended the call, emptied his wine glass and grabbed his tie from where he had dropped it over the back of his couch.

Ten minutes later a young PC rang his doorbell and a police car waited at the curb outside Lewis' place. The young man delivered Lewis to the college in record time as traffic was light this late in the evening.

Detective Sergeant Hathaway was waiting for him outside the building, or maybe he had just come out to smoke, Lewis mused..

"What have you got?" Lewis asked instead of a greeting as Hathaway ground out his cigarette and led the Inspector into the hall. They had only parted ways a couple of hours earlier so they both skipped formalities like greetings.

"Vicky Martin, 28 years old, Ph. D. student of Psychological Science here at Balliol College. She got dizzy, staggered around for a bit and finally fell, hitting her head badly on the corner of a table. She was dead before the paramedics arrived."

Lewis looked at him quizzically. "You called me out for an accident?"

"It's suspicious. Miss Martin was seen repeatedly taking pills throughout the evening, the last time shortly before the accident."

Lewis nodded as he scanned the big hall. A buffet was on one side, there were long rows of tables as well as a small stage and what looked like a space left free as a dance floor. "And just what was going on here?"

"Fund rising ball for the college. Food, drinks, music and dancing as well as the presentation of some very promising students to show off the quality of the college. Alumni and other possible sponsors were attending."

Lewis gaze fell on several groups of people standing or sitting together, talking quietly. Others, admittedly mostly women, sat with an expression of shock on their faces, staring into the distance.

There was a big gap in the middle of the tables where the uniformed colleagues had cordoned off the area of the accident. He could make out the head of Dr. Hobson in the middle of the area and strode over to greet her. She looked up when she caught the movement out of the corner of her eye.

"Evening, Inspector."

Lewis noticed she was wearing make-up and he could make out a pearl necklace in the collar of her overall. He nodded at her in greeting. "Did they make you dress up to be allowed in here?"

She ignored his bad joke. "She died from the head injury sustained when she bashed her head on the corner of that table." She pointed at a table close by that indeed had a bloody edge. "However, she is said to have taken some pills before and I found these in her handbag." She held up a small pill box in a clear plastic bag. "She told the ladies over there they're antihistamines, but there's no pack for them in her bag so I'll take them along and check them out. I can tell you more tomorrow."

"Antihistamines and drinking? Not the best combination, is it?"

"No, but the reaction she's described to have been showing is a bit over the top for an antihistamines/alcohol mix."

Lewis nodded slowly. "With all these people around I suppose I won't need you to tell me the time of death."

Hathaway had been standing behind his superior, listening in. "You don't. She died at 21:53."

Lewis turned to him and raised an eyebrow. "That's the most exact time of death I've heard in a long time."

"There is a medical student here who tried to save her. However there was nothing he could do but state her death and note the time. Her injury was too severe."

"I'd like to speak to him anyway."

* * *

_reviews are highly appreciated  
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	2. tired

Lewis and Hathaway talked to the young medical student, Oliver Bingham, who had tried to save Miss Martin. He had not known her personally but was the only person with medical knowledge attending so he had tried to help. Out of the medical descriptions he gave them, Lewis managed to conclude that Miss Martin had been unconscious, probably in shock and losing a lot of blood. Head wounds always bled very strongly. Mr. Bingham had tried to stop the bleeding but had not been successful.

They also spoke to Miss Martin's Ph. D. advisor, Richard Williams, who had asked her to attend the ball as one of his most promising students. He had intended to present her to the possible donors but had not seen her since they had greeted each other shortly after her arrival at the festivity. Apparently he had been busy shaking hands with the rich. The introduction of the students had been scheduled to happen at a later stage.

Finally they took statements from the shaken women who had been sitting at Miss Martin's table. Neither of them had known her before, but they described her as a bright and polite young woman. She had been sniffling and sneezing a lot though, hay fever as she had explained to them in an apologizing tone. Some pollen she was allergic to had been in the air.

By the time they had worked their way through the interviews, it was getting late and uniformed colleagues were busy taking down the details of all other persons attending the event, which had of course been ruined as the headmaster informed them repeatedly with a lot of desperate gesturing.

The mix of alcohol and a long work day made Lewis yawn more and more often until he finally addressed his Sergeant.

"I think the colleagues can handle the rest. Let's get out of here, I'm too tired to waste more of the night on what might still turn out to not even be a crime."

Hathaway nodded thankfully. Though he had hidden his tiredness better than Lewis he was still glad to get home. "Shall I give you a lift home?"

"Gladly, the lad that drove me here was a bit of a reckless driver. I won't mind not having to rely on his services again."

Hathaway chuckled.

"You've made sure someone keeps an eye on her place, haven't you? If this does turn out to be a crime I want the place untouched when we check it out tomorrow."

"Uniforms are there to seal off the apartment and keep watch until they're given clearance to leave."

Lewis nodded contently, stifling another yawn. "Time to go then."

* * *

When Lewis arrived at his office at the CID in Kidlington the next morning, a short preliminary autopsy report was already on his desk. Dr. Hobson must have gotten even less sleep than he had. He sat down and picked the report up. He hadn't read more than the first line when Hathaway walked in with two mugs, setting one down in front of him, cradling the other one in his hands as if to warm them.

Lewis looked up at him and nodded at the steaming mug. "Thanks."

Hathaway just nodded and sat down on the opposite side of the Inspector's desk, waiting for Lewis to finish reading the short report.

"Might not be a crime after all," Lewis finally said. "Those pills were tranquillizers, combine them with alcohol and accidents are bound to happen."

Hathaway furrowed his brow. "Tranquillizers?"

"That's what Dr. Hobson says."

"But it's not what Vicky Martin said." Hathaway turned to his own desk and quickly flipped through some notes he had jotted down the previous evening. He tapped his finger at one. "Here. Miss Martin claimed she was taking antihistamines. This woman who was sitting at her table, " he squinted at his notes, "Mrs. Phellis, said they weren't working as expected so she took more throughout the evening. She didn't want to sniffle when she got introduced to the donors."

Lewis stared at the report in his hands thoughtfully as he remembered what the women at the ball hat told them the previous night and considered the implications. "Maybe we should take a look at her place after all. Let's see if we can find packs for either tranquillizers or antihistamines. A fund raising ball doesn't sound like the right place to commit suicide anyway. Especially not when you're one of the big talents of the college."

"Not exactly, no. An overdose of tranquillizers washed down with alcohol at home would seem the more likely alternative."

Lewis nodded grimly. "Absolutely. Let's go and take a look at her place. Her death definitely can be labelled suspicious now."


	3. postcard

Half an hour after their discussion at the office Hathaway opened the door to Vicky Martin's apartment. They went over the place systematically and Hathaway soon came up with an opened pack of antihistamines from the bathroom. He placed it in an evidence bag and continued his search in the kitchen but came up with nothing else.

In the meantime Lewis was looking through the papers on Vicky Martin's desk. He couldn't make sense of a lot of them, most of them seemed to concern her studies if all the technical terms were anything to go by. He found a notebook with names and addresses though as well as a calendar. The college fund raising ball had been the only event listed for the previous day but for today there was an entry entitled "Jody" for 8 pm. He flipped through the address-book to check for matching entries when Hathaway entered the room. Lewis turned to face the younger man. "Found anything?"

"This." Hathaway held up the clear bag so Lewis could see the cardboard box it contained. "Antihistamines. No sign of tranquillizers. Not even aspirin. Seems hay fever was all she was taking medicine for."

Lewis nodded. "So the tranquillizers probably weren't hers. Figures. If she was so worried just about the odd chance of sneezing at the donors due to her allergy, why would she try to daze herself with too many tranquillizers. It wouldn't have looked too good." He held up the two books he had found on the desk. "Miss Martin's calender and address-book. Maybe we can find some names to check out in these."

Hathaway was taking a look around the living room now, too. His gaze fell upon a photo sitting on a shelf. It showed Vicky Martin arm in arm with another young woman smiling broadly at the camera. "I wonder who this is?"

Lewis came to stand at his side and studied the picture, too. "Sister maybe?"

Hathaway shook his head. "Nope, she's an only child, orphan actually. I checked it out yesterday to see whom we'd have to inform of her death. She grew up in a children's home, no relatives."

"Best friend then? Take the picture and see if one of the neighbours recognizes her."

Hathaway nodded and went out with the photo. Lewis searched the small apartment a bit longer. The only other interesting thing that could point them to someone closer to her was a postcard in a stack of old newspapers and magazines. It was signed 'Love, Ali'. Now he had two names to look for the in the address-book. He flipped through the pages a bit. There were a lot of names listed. Some local, some from elsewhere, some only with phone numbers or email addresses. Before he could find Jody or Ali, Hathaway was back, the look on his Sergeant's face telling Lewis he had news to share.

"So, who is she?"

"Jody, last name unknown. Vicky's new love. Apparently she dumped her boyfriend for her."

"Interesting. Jody? They wanted to meet this evening. Do you have a name for the boyfriend, too?"

"Ex-boyfriend. Alister Ingham or something like it. The neighbour wasn't sure of the last name."

Lewis opened the address-book to 'I'. "Ingelsham." He held up the postcard. "If he's the ex it explains why his postcard was among the old paper." He studied the postcard again. "Can't have been long that she switched lovers. The postcard was sent only a bit over a month ago. Postmark says February 14."

"Valentine's Day? According to the neighbour she must have dumped him in December, shortly before Christmas actually."

Lewis frowned and read the signature on the postcard again. "'Love, Ali.' Doesn't exactly sound like an ex dumped two months earlier. And sent on Valentine's Day..."

"Maybe they stayed friends," Hathaway offered, but he didn't sound convinced of the thought himself.

"Yeah, maybe. We should ask Mr. Ingelsham about it. But first, let's head back to the office and track down the girlfriend."

They stopped at the morgue on their way back to drop off the cardboard box of antihistamines with Dr. Hobson who was in the middle of performing a thorough autopsy on Vicky Martin. They didn't linger around, neither of them keen on seeing too much of the inside of the young woman. Reading about it in the full report afterwards would be bad enough.


	4. stains

When they arrived back at the office in Kidlington, there was a file on Lewis' desk containing photographs of the victim as well as names, addresses and statements of the people attending the ball taken by the colleagues the previous evening. He took out the photos and looked at them. As always in these shots the lighting was odd, enhancing the contrast between Vicky Martin's white dress and the dark red stains.

For the first time he noticed the shattered glass on the floor beside her and wondered how many of the stains on her dress were blood and how many were red wine. He now remembered seeing an empty bottle on the table she had been sitting at. The glass probably had been cleared away by SOCOs for analysis of the contents.

Hathaway had begun looking through the address-book. "Here's her G.P." He pointed at an entry. "I'll check with him if he prescribed her anything but the antihistamines, according to the pack those were only available on prescription."

"Good. Have you found the girlfriend yet?"

"No, not yet. The G.P. was listed at the front, there's a section for important numbers and he's in there. I haven't checked any further yet. I'll try the doctor first and then get on with it."

Lewis nodded his agreement and began looking through the long list of people that had been present at the ball and the thankfully small number of statements. Most people had only noticed something was wrong when the paramedics had come storming in and hadn't seen anything of what had happened. Those were the ones they had not asked to give proper statements. And as he had spoken to most of the other people himself last night, he couldn't learn much more from the few statements in the file.

Hathaway was still on the phone to the G.P. by the time Lewis put down the last statement so he signalled for the Sergeant to hand him the address-book. While Hathaway still tried to get information out of the doctor, Lewis flipped through the pages, finally tapping a page. "Bingo."

Hathaway looked up for a moment but quickly returned his focus to the phone call, finally saying "Thank you, doctor," and hanging up. "Vicky Martin was of good health. She's been to see him only two weeks ago to get the antihistamines prescribed for her allergy. She's been taking them every year as long as he's been her G.P. and usually it's the only thing she ever consults him about all year. He never prescribed her tranquillizers."

Lewis nodded. "Not that I had expected him to, but it's good to be sure. I found the new lover. Jody Tubbs. No address, only a mobile phone. Let's see if we can get hold of her."

He dialled the number listed in the book but ended up on voice mail. He left a message for Miss Tubbs to call him and gave his own mobile number.

"Not answering her phone. Let's try the ex instead." Again he dialled and this time his call was answered.

"Ingelsham."

"Mr. Ingelsham? Detective Inspector Lewis, Thames Valley CID. I would like to ask you a couple of questions about Miss Vicky Martin."

The line was quiet for a moment before Ingelsham spoke again. "Police you said? What do you want from me?"

"Just a couple of questions, Mr. Ingelsham."

"Look, it's not a good time. I'm at the hospital, I really can't talk now."

Lewis stared at Hathaway, or rather through him, wondering why the former boyfriend of the victim was in hospital. "It's important, Sir. If possible I'd like to talk to you in person. Which hospital are you at? I can come over."

A sigh came over the line. "All right, if you insist. Meet me during my break at noon, there's a café just a block west from the hospital..."

"Which hospital, Mr. Ingelsham?"

"The Radcliffe of course! It's the main schooling hospital, where else would I be at? I really have to go now."

Before Lewis could say another word, Ingelsham had cut the line.

"Schooling hospital?!" He looked at Hathaway. "Check our Mr. Ingelsham out, I want to know more about him. Sounds as if we here have a man who might know his way around medicine."

"The neighbour thought Vicky knew her ex from college. I'll check if he's enlisted at Balliol."

A call to the office of Balliol College confirmed that Mr. Alister Ingelsham, 29, was a Ph. D. student of medicine, currently in training at the Radcliffe. And as the woman working at the college office was being helpful, Hathaway took his chance to enquire about Jody Tubbs, too. She happened to be another student at the college with her subject being biology.

"She's probably in class at this time and turned off her mobile for the duration," Hathaway volunteered.

"Let's hope she'll get back to me soon. Until we hear from her or head out to meet Mr. Ingelsham, I'll see who else is in here." He tapped the address-book in front of him. "You can check her calender." He threw said book at his Sergeant who caught it with ease.


	5. together

It hadn't been difficult to spot the café Ingelsham had been referring to. However finding one young med student in the mass of young people that filled the place was proving to be a more difficult task.

While Lewis looked around, trying to find someone who reacted to their arrival - in their suits they did stand out among all the young and casually dressed people - Hathaway chose a more practical approach and dialled Ingelsham's mobile number. When a mobile rang at a table halfway through the room, he disconnected the call. "There's our man."

Lewis chuckled at his Sergeant's methods but had to admit they were efficient. Ingelsham was still staring at his mobile when they approached his table. He sat with his back towards them, facing a young woman who sat opposite him sipping a coffee.

"Mr. Ingelsham?" The young man turned and looked up at the two policemen. "D.I. Lewis, this is D.S. Hathaway." They both produced their warrant cards for him to inspect.

"Oh, yeah, you were the one who called me earlier on. What did you say you wanted to talk about?"

"Vicky Martin. You don't mind if we take a seat?" Lewis didn't exactly make it sound like a question and Hathaway took it as his prompt to pull up two chairs.

Ingelsham shrugged as the two men sat down. "What about her?"

"I understand that you had a relationship with Miss Martin."

"As you say - I had. Why are you asking?"

"I need to inform you that Miss Martin died yesterday evening."

Ingelsham didn't seem very moved or surprised but the young woman he was with clasped her face in her hands, muttering "Oh, God."

"And you would be..." Lewis enquired.

She gulped before answering. "Philippa McIntire."

"She's a med Ph. D. student, just like me," Ingelsham offered. "I hope you didn't come all the way out here just to inform me of Vicky's death, Inspector?"

"As I told you on the phone, I have a few questions."

"About Vicky, yes, you said so. What do you want to know?"

"When did your relationship end, Sir?"

"I'm afraid I can't give you an exact date. It had deteriorated for a while and we finally called it off some time in mid December."

Lewis reached into his jacket pocket and produced the postcard. "If the relationship was 'called off' in December, why did you send her a postcard on Valentine's Day signed 'Love, Ali'?"

Ingelsham stared at the postcard in silence for a moment. "Well... it's not exactly a Valentine's Card, is it? And we split amicably."

Now Hathaway cut in. "Miss Martin's neighbour seemed convinced that she dumped you for her new love. And still the split was amicably?"

"Yes. As I said, the relationship had gone downhill. It happens. Sometimes you just fall out of love."

"So you fell out of love but still sent her a Valentine's greeting signed 'Love'?"

"Why are you asking all this?"

Lewis took over again. "Because we're treating Miss Martin's death as suspicious. Where were you yesterday afternoon and evening, Mr. Ingelsham?"

He seemed to consider the question, then looked at Philippa McIntire. "We were learning together, weren't we, Phili?"

For a moment Lewis thought the young woman looked surprised but she replied in a steady voice. "Yes, of course. For the exam coming up next week. It got kind of late. So much to go through, Inspector."

Lewis looked at her for a moment before nodding. "How late?"

"Oh, 10 pm? About? I'm not sure, I didn't check the clock. What do you think, Ali?" She threw him a wide smile.

"Yeah, think I must have left around 10."

"Left where?"

"Phili's. We were learning there, weren't we?"

Philippa nodded eagerly.

Ingelsham faced Lewis again. "Why are you asking? You can't think I had anything to do with Vicky's death? We're ancient history!"

They didn't learn much more from the two students and left. They had just made it back to the car when Lewis' mobile rang. It was Jody Tubbs, returning Lewis' call. They agreed to meet at the college in an hour as she had an urgent appointment with a tutor that she couldn't postpone.


	6. ancient history

"What do you make of Ingelsham?" Lewis was driving but still cast a quick glance at his Sergeant.

"I think he's lying. Not sure if he's got anything to do with Miss Martin's death, but he's lying."

Lewis nodded. "Just what I thought, too. That stuff about them being ancient history. If you're ancient history with someone you don't send Valentine's greetings. Admittedly, the card wasn't very romantic, but somehow he didn't come across as the romantic type anyway."

"He's got an alibi. On the other hand he's a med student working at a hospital. He probably could get hold of tranquillizers and knows the effect they can have."

"I'm not so sure about the alibi. He practically prompted Miss McIntire to say they were together. Always phrasing his words so she could tell he expected her to agree. And did you see the way she looked at him? She's besotted with him!"

"I'll check her out when we get back to the office."

"You do that." He drove on in silence for a minute, thinking. "Did that neighbour of Miss Martin ever see Ingelsham around after the relationship ended?"

"I didn't ask. It didn't seem important at the time. But I have her number, I'll check."

He easily found the right number he had saved to his mobile earlier that day and hit the dial button. "D.S. Hathaway, Madam. We talked about Miss Martin this morning and I have another question." He paused, listening for a moment before he continued. "Right. What I'd like to know - did you ever see Alister around again after Miss Martin dumped him?" Again he listened, this time for longer, which made Lewis curious. Apparently there was more to the answer than just yes or no. "Thank you very much, you've been most helpful."

"What did she say?"

"She said our good Mr. Ingelsham had a key to Miss Martin's flat and only returned it to her when she threatened to call the police for he just let himself into her flat whenever he felt like it. It ended some time in January. But apparently she's been complaining about him still calling her."

"Mr. Ingelsham has an interesting definition of ancient history it seems. That rather sounds like stalking to me."

"Indeed. Which she should have reported and not only threatened to do."

"It's a bit late for should haves, but you're right. We'll have to dig into his alibi a bit more. Studying at Philippa McIntire's place. There must be neighbours around who might have or have not seen them."

"So we have our work cut out for the day. Why do I think that I can say good bye to going home on time?"

"Cause you've been around long enough to know crime doesn't stop at 5 pm."

"Unfortunately. I'll be missing another band rehearsal."

Lewis looked at him again. Sometimes he forgot that in contrast to himself Hathaway seemed to have at least some life outside the job. "Sorry."

"No need. I chose the job, now I must live with the consequences."

Lewis sighed slightly. "Don't we all..." His mobile rang and he passed it to Hathaway as he hadn't bothered to attach it to the hands-free kit.

Hathaway glanced at the screen and took the call. "Hello doctor."

Lewis cast a quick glance at his Sergeant who seemed to be listening intently. It was typical for Laura Hobson just to get to the point.

"Very interesting, thank you for calling, doctor." Hathaway ended the call and handed the phone back to Lewis. "Vicky Martin died of the head wound. However there were so many tranquillizers in her blood by the time that even with the small amount of alcohol she had been drinking, she would probably have died."

Lewis grimaced. "Unless that med student at the ball would have been able to pull a trick out of the hat. So someone tried to kill her. Someone who knew she'd be attending the ball and would likely be drinking."

"Not necessarily, whoever exchanged the pills couldn't know how many she'd take."

"True," Lewis admitted.


	7. anger

Lewis and Hathaway found Jody Tubbs sitting on a bench on campus, enjoying the warm spring sun. She had a small smile on her face as she watched two birds chasing each other in a mating game. Lewis felt sorry for having to spoil the day for her. He had decided not to break the news of her lover's death over the phone but to do it face to face. It didn't get any easier, no matter how often he had been the bearer of such sad news already.

"Miss Tubbs?"

"Yes?"

"D.I. Lewis and D.S. Hathaway. Thank you for agreeing to meet us."

"Of course. You mentioned Vicky, she's not in any trouble, is she? Only I cannot reach her..."

Lewis took a deep breath. "I'm sorry to have to bring you such bad news. Vicky Martin died yesterday evening."

Jody Tubbs turned as white as the few clouds that were passing over the sky. "She's... dead? But... how? When?" Her voice trembled and tears welled up in her eyes.

"She died yesterday evening at the fund raising ball of the college. As to the how, we think she was murdered."

Miss Tubbs seemed to turn even paler, the shock too strong for tears to spill, it rather seemed to numb her. "Murdered? But why? She's... was, oh my God, such a wonderful person."

"We were hoping you might be able to tell us a bit more about her relations to others. Was she arguing with anyone? Has she been threatened?"

Jody thought for a moment and something that crossed her mind slowly brought the colour back to her face. "Arguing. Yes. There's this idiot of an ex, Alister. He just wouldn't accept that she dumped him for me. The macho can't deal with Vicky falling in love with a woman, apparently it goes against his ego. He's been calling her all the time, I told her she should get a new number but she refused, said he's a barking dog and they don't bite."

Lewis nodded slightly at Hathaway. This fitted well with what his Sergeant had learned from the neighbour.

"Do you think Mr. Ingelsham hated her enough to kill her?"

"I don't know, honestly. But he's the only one I can think of that she's been arguing with. Everyone gets along so well with her... got along so well. I cannot believe it, Vicky gone." She looked from Lewis to Hathaway and back. "Please, can I see her?"

Hathaway answered the question. "I will make sure you can."

She gave him a sad smile. "Thank you." He nodded in return.

Lewis hated having to put her through more questions, but he needed more information and felt Jody Tubbs might have some answers. "Could you tell us a bit more about Mr. Ingelsham? About how he reacted about Miss Martin ending the relationship?"

Jody sighed and stared into the distance for a moment. The expression on her face turned from sad to angry as she gathered her thoughts.

"Alister Ingelsham. As I said he's an idiot, a macho. I don't know what Vicky could ever have seen in him. He just wouldn't accept that it was over. At first he acted as if Vicky had only been joking. She had given him a key when they were an item and he still had it for a while after she dumped him. It happened more than once that he was suddenly standing in the living room when Vicky and I were together. We'd be watching telly or something and he was suddenly standing there, going 'Oh, you've got a friend over. Are you studying?' and he'd bend over the couch and try to kiss her as if they were still together. It only ended in January when she finally got the key back after threatening to call the police if he set foot in her flat again."

Lewis nodded encouragingly. "Go on, please."

She took a deep breath. "It didn't end then, though. He called her, learned her schedule and just happened to be on campus at the same time she was... he even sent her a Valentine's greeting. He just wouldn't pack up. Lately he changed tack, tried to make her jealous. The fool. See, I work as a waitress at a gay-club a couple of nights a week and Vicky sometimes came round to chat when it was an easy night. One evening, it must have been... about two weeks ago, Alister suddenly walks in with a girl in tow. I mean, come on, you don't go to a gay club as a het-couple. And I didn't believe it anyway. But he made a big show of it, telling Vicky this girl, Phil or something, was his new big flame. It was a total fake! Of course Vicky saw through it and he stomped off again pretty soon when he realized she wasn't taking the bait."

"Could this girl's name have been Phili," Hathaway enquired.

"Phili! Yes, that's right. You know her?"

"We've met her."

"I think she's got a huge crush on Alister, she looked so pleased and happy when the idiot delivered his little speech to Vicky that night. I think she would love to be his girlfriend, heaven knows why... All these questions about Alister, you think he killed Vicky?"

"It's too early to tell. And he has an alibi, he was studying with Miss McIntire all afternoon until late evening."

Jody looked confused so Hathaway explained. "Philippa McIntire, Phili."

She snorted. "Hell he was! I saw her at the library yesterday, that must have been... half six? It was after my last class... yes, half six sounds right."

"You're sure about this?"

"Oh yes. I even said hi, but she pretended not to know me. Or maybe I never registered on her mind that night because she only had eyes for Alister..."

Lewis got up from the bench. "You've been most helpful, Miss Tubbs."

The sadness returned to her face. "You will find whoever did this to Vicky, won't you?"

It was Hathaway who answered. "We will. And I will be in touch once I have arranged for you to see Vicky."

The two young people looked at each other for a long moment, some silent message passing between them that Lewis didn't get.


	8. investigate

It was time for some legwork, the basis of policing. Their investigation first led them to the college library where Hathaway quickly learned from a clerk that Miss Philippa McInitre had retuned one book at 6:13 pm and checked out another at 6:48 pm the previous day.

"So Jody was right, she did see Philippa. Which means that Ingelsham's alibi has just been blown."

Lewis raised an eyebrow at the use of Miss Tubbs christian name. He felt like he had missed something that had gone on between his Sergeant and the young woman. "Which doesn't exactly surprise me. I doubted it from the start."

Hathaway nodded. "Where to next? I suppose I won't need to find Miss McIntire's neighbours any longer."

"No. I'd say let's go to the Radcliffe, I want to speak to Ingelsham again and you can go and find someone who can check if any tranqullizers have gone missing lately."

"You think he nicked them at the hospital?"

"He's working there so I think he'd be able to get hold of them there. Either he himself or he made Miss McIntire do it for him."

"Even if he got them at the hospital, how did he swap them for the antihistamines?"

"I'll bet you a pint he's had a copy of Miss Martin's key made and snuck in at some point yesterday. He probably knew she used a pill-box outside the apartment so he exchanged the contents."

"Won't be easy to prove."

"We can still hope for some prints on the box. Though I'm not too confident of such luck as Miss Martin must have handled it quite often afterwards when she repeatedly took pills."

Hathaway nodded. "So what else do we have to go by?"

"The neighbour didn't happen to see him yesterday?"

"She said she hadn't seen him in a while."

"Pity."

"He never even asked how she died."

"Didn't have to cause he knew?"

"Could well be."

At the hospital they split up. Hathaway went to find out if any tranquillizers had gone missing; Lewis set off in search for Alister Ingelsham but nearly bumped into Philippa McIntire instead.

"Ah, Miss McIntire. I was looking for Mr. Ingelsham but I have a couple of questions for you as well. Is there anywhere we can talk?"

She looked at him with a mix of surprise and shock and stuttered "Uhm, oh, hello Inspector... talk... uhm... in there maybe?"

She led him into a small room full of shelves with bedclothes for the patient's rooms.

"Miss McIntire," Lewis began, "you've been lying to me. You were not studying with Mr. Ingelsham yesterday, were you?"

She looked down, obviously uncomfortable. "Uhm... no," she admitted in a low voice.

"Have you been with Mr. Ingelsham yesterday at all?"

"We had the morning shift here together, it ended at two. I went home then and I didn't see him again until this morning." She looked up at him. "I'm sorry, Inspector. But Ali, he's not in trouble, is he?"

"Do you think he might be?"

"Well, there must be a reason you're asking questions about him and for him to need an alibi..."

"Which you were very willing to give him."

She hung her head. "Sorry," she said again.

Lewis was standing in the door, keeping it open so the small room wouldn't be too oppressive. It also helped Hathaway to find him. When he saw who the Inspector was talking to, he asked "A word, Sir?"

Lewis nodded. "Excuse me," he said to Philippa before stepping into the hall and letting the door close behind him. "What?"

"The head nurse quickly checked the tranquillizers and there are indeed a couple missing. And do you want to guess whose ID was used to get some without handing in a prescription?"

The expression on Lewis face said no, he didn't want to guess.

Hathaway nodded at the closed door. "Miss McIntire's. It wouldn't have been noticed for another couple of days, they check once a week and the last check was only three days ago."

"So he did make her get the pills." Lewis shook his head and looked at the closed door.

When he questioned her about it, Philippa McIntire admitted taking the pills for Alister Ingelsham. He had told her a buddy of his was super-nervous because of exam stress and had talked her into getting the pills. He promised he would get a prescription for them before it was noticed. So far he hadn't and now it had been noticed.


	9. same old game

Feeling they had enough to go by, Lewis and Hathaway tracked down Alister Ingelsham at the hospital and arrested him on suspicion of attempted murder.

When Ingelsham had to empty his pockets at the precinct, Hathaway picked up his set of keys and pulled the key to Vicky Martin's flat out of his own pocket for comparison. He could easily see that there was a match on Ingelsham's key ring. "Glad I didn't take you up on that bet, Sir. I would have lost."

Lewis didn't feel very triumphant that his suspicion had turned out to be correct. The whole case rather made him sad. It was once again the same old game. Unrequited love, a too big ego to cope with it and bang, someone was dead. He'd seen it too often already.

Superintendent Innocent approved his request of a warrant for Ingelsham's flat and sent two colleagues over to search the place.

An hour later Lewis sat down opposite Alister Ingelsham and his lawyer in an interrogation room, a PC was standing by the door. Hathaway had arranged for Jody Tubbs to see her dead lover and had insisted on picking her up himself. Lewis had agreed to it, he could handle the interrogation alone.

"Mr. Ingelsham, you understand the seriousness of the charge?"

Ingelsham nodded.

"For the tape, Mr. Ingelsham nodded. Mr. Ingelsham, did you go to Miss Martin's apartment yesterday afternoon?"

Ingelsham looked at his lawyer who shook his head. "No comment."

"You asked Miss Philippa McIntire to steal tranquillizers from the Radcliffe hospital for you. What did you need them for so urgently that you couldn't get a prescription for them first?"

The same communication as before happened between Ingelsham and his lawyer and again he only answered "No comment."

"You went to her flat yesterday to exchange them for the antihistamines in Miss Martin's pill-box, didn't you? You had a copy of the key to her flat made before you handed hers back so you could enter at any time."

Ingelsham stayed quiet. "Miss McIntire gave the pills to you and they ended up in Miss Martin's pill-box. How would you explain that if you didn't swap them?"

This time Ingelsham didn't even look at his layer but just said "No comment."

"You couldn't cope with Miss Martin breaking up with you for another woman."

Ingelsham raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"We have several witnesses who claim you have been stalking her. And we have the postcard you sent her for Valentine's Day."

The young student still remained quiet.

"You hated seeing her with a woman, didn't you? It drove you mad that she dumped you for a woman. It went against your pride."

Lewis tried to upset the young man, but so far he kept his calm.

"Or maybe you didn't want to kill her, just make her dazed so you would be able to grab her after the ball and remind her what it's like to be with a man?"

If anything, Ingelsham seemed bored by the questioning. Lewis tried a couple more questions but the young man didn't break.

Frustrated with the lack of response, Lewis left the interrogation room again and met up with Superintendent Innocent who had been watching.

He sighed. "He's not saying anything."

"It won't save him. While you were questioning him, the colleagues I sent to search his place called in. They found the pack of tranquillizers in his kitchen, right next to a print-out of a website listing Vicky Martin as one of the students who would attend the college ball. That and Miss McIntire's confession that she stole the pills for him, the key and no alibi should be enough to at least charge him with assault with fatal consequences. Well done, Lewis."

Praise didn't come his way too often from his superior, still Lewis didn't feel any pride. "Thank you, ma'am. Just doing my job." He would have preferred to be able to nail Ingelsham down for murder, but he had no proof that Vicky Martin's ex had indeed tried to kill her. His apparent lack of emotion at her death was proof enough for Lewis, but his gut feeling wouldn't be enough in court.

"I expect your full report on my desk tomorrow."

"Yes, ma'am."


	10. a pint

Lewis was working on his report when Hathaway returned.

"Did he confess?"

"Not saying a word, but Innocent feels we have enough evidence against him for charges of assault with fatal consequences. He'll have trouble getting out of that, no matter how silent he remains."

Hathaway sat down. "I hope so."

Lewis looked up, but Hathaway sat with his back turned to him, switching on his screen to start his own report.

"How's Miss Tubbs holding up?"

Hathaway stiffened slightly. "Considerably well. I think she's still suffering from shock though, too numb to grieve for her lost love yet."

Lewis nodded, he knew the feeling only too well. A moment later his gaze fell on the display of his phone and he realized how late it was.

"You know, reports can wait. Innocent wants them tomorrow, but she didn't say she wants them first thing in the morning. Let's go for a pint. I'll pay."

Hathaway hadn't started his report yet, only stared at the blank screen. Now he turned the monitor off again.

"I can't say no to you offering to pay."

Lewis approached the table with two pints and sat one down in front of Hathaway before taking the seat opposite his colleague.

"Something's bothering you," he stated.

Hathaway didn't comment but picked up his glass and drank a mouthful of beer. Lewis didn't press him, he knew his Sergeant well enough not to. He picked up his own beer and waited.

After a couple of minutes of silence Hathaway spoke up. "Do you think Ingelsham would have reacted the same way if he had been dumped for another man?"

The question caught Lewis off guard, he hadn't expected anything like it. "I don't know, maybe. But I can't look into his head. He's got a huge ego, whether it got hurt especially because Miss Martin fell in love with another girl, I cannot say. I threw accusations like that at him but he didn't take the bait so I honestly don't know." He studied Hathaway's face. "You think she would still be alive if it had been a man."

Hathaway didn't answer, not with words. But his eyes confirmed Lewis's statement. Once again it made Lewis wonder about his Sergeant's sexuality for a moment before he dismissed the thought. He'd said it before and it was still true: It was none of his business.

"You could have gone to your band practice after all. Someone else could have brought Miss Tubbs in for her good bye."

Hathaway shook his head. "No, I needed to do this myself. It was worth missing the practice for."

It was the last word they spoke about the case that evening. Hathaway excused himself after finishing his pint and Lewis didn't try to talk him into a second round. Instead he went home, too. He felt tired. Tired of playing the same old game day in, day out. But as tired as he was of it at times, he wouldn't want it any other way either. It seemed to be the one constant in his life. The game stayed the same, only the players changed with every round he played.

~ FIN ~


End file.
